


defiance

by deanwstories



Series: the devil and his righteous man [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angels, Dean Winchester Whump, Dean Winchester in Hell, Demons, Ducifer - Freeform, Hurt Dean Winchester, Lucifer is not evil, Lucifer's Fall (Supernatural), M/M, POV Alternating, Torture, season 4
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:42:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27663560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanwstories/pseuds/deanwstories
Summary: A/U to Dean’s stay in Hell. Dean/Lucifer. No matter what Alastair does, Dean doesn’t crack. His eyes burn with defiance and his soul stays bright, almost unnaturally so. He’s been named the Righteous Man by lower demons and even Alastair seems to be annoyed he can’t get this one puny human soul to break. Lucifer...well, he’s intrigued.
Relationships: Lucifer/Dean Winchester
Series: the devil and his righteous man [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022737
Comments: 25
Kudos: 99





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just browsing through some old google docs and decided to post this. It's unfinished but I have plans on continuing it as part of a series.

“ _Dean Winchester is here._ ”

Excitement had risen amongst the demons trapped in the Pit at the name _Winchester_. Especially when the first name of said Winchester happened to be _Dean_. Most of the demons weren’t privy to the grand plan, but they had been itching to have one of the sons of the legendary hunter John Winchester, particularly Dean, in their clutches. 

Lucifer knew the moment Dean Winchester had been dragged down to hell. It was hard not to. The news spread quickly. It was all any of the demons would talk about. How Dean Winchester made a deal with one of the crossroad’s demon to save his dearest younger brother Sam Winchester. The act was one of self-sacrifice, of noble intent. He’d seen it done from time to time. Not as often as deals struck for money or fame or love, but every once in a while they’d get a soul like John Winchester, or Dean Winchester. Someone who loved so greatly, they’d rather die, than see a loved one die.

Some may call that selfish. Trading a life for a life had consequences after all. The person being left behind would face heartache and anguish. But so would the person who traded their soul over to a demon like it was nothing more than a bargaining chip. They’d burn in the pit of hell for eternity.

It was a curious thing, the souls in hell. There were souls of all kinds. Young, old, female, male, poor, rich - hell didn’t discriminate as long as you or someone you knew made a deal. That was all it took. Not that Lucifer particularly cared what humans did with their souls. He never understood what his father saw in humanity. He tried at one point but when you’re living in hell for a sin that wasn’t your fault as punishment, well...it wasn’t like he was seeing the best humanity had to offer. 

No, those souls were far and few in between. And even then, when Lucifer got to those supposedly shining beacons of bright light, it was already too late. The soul couldn’t take the pain and anguish and had jumped off the rack. The souls by then would be mangled and tarnished beyond any recognition. Whenever that happened, Lucifer couldn’t help the little ache he got in his own grace. 

Perhaps deep down, after millions of years of being trapped down here with just his own thoughts and the worst of humanity, he still wanted to try and understand _why_ his father had done the things he had. What was so great about humans? What was so great about the greed and the violent nature of humanity? 

Then came John Winchester.

He’d lasted for a hundred years on the rack. His soul had been bright and untouched, and Lucifer had wondered how long he could last with those hazel eyes narrowed and those lips curved in a smirk and his voice low and dangerous as he said between gurgling blood as he was cut open again and again, “Is that all you’ve got?”

And Lucifer found himself just a little bit curious. He’d watch from behind Alastair, a demon whose torturing skills had remained unmatched, and he’d see the way the demon tensed and snarled as he cut into John Winchester with a rage that only a demon could possess, all the while, John would just laugh and laugh and laugh.

Although at the one hundredth year mark, as days passed by, he could see John Winchester’s light start to fade and Lucifer knew it was only a matter of time before even John Winchester would break.

They didn’t get a chance to test that theory however. Azazel had moved to the next step in the grand plan and got someone to open one of the gates. Hell went into an uproar for a few hours, and somehow, John had broken out of his shackles and escaped in the frenzy. Since Lucifer couldn’t leave hell, he just watched him go, quietly, from the shadows. He’d realized later on, through one of the demons, that his brother, Michael, had been furious that John Winchester escaped before he could break the first seal. 

Perhaps Lucifer should’ve been furious as well, because the seals needed to be broken in order to release him from the cage. But Lucifer had found himself just leaning his head back against magically infused steel of his prison and wondered why his brother was even trying so hard. They hadn’t talked much since before his fall. Every once in a while, Azazel would try and communicate with him. Otherwise nothing. Then suddenly John Winchester had come waltzing into the Pit, baring his teeth and snarling at the demons who tortured him, his eyes wild with defiance. 

After that things went back to normal and Lucifer went back to being trapped and bored.

Until Dean Winchester.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean Winchester was a new kind of soul. He was brilliant and defiant, he reminded Lucifer of John Winchester. He watched with intrigue as the boy spat in the face of Alastair, and snarled, “Eat my ass. You think _that’s_ torture? I’ve gone through worse, you demonic freak!”

It was only a week and yet Alastair was already growing annoyed with the kid’s smart alec remarks. Lucifer stayed quiet as the demon jerked the boy’s collar forward so that he stumbled and nearly fell in surprise. Alastair caught him and tipped his chin up so that defiant green eyes glared up at him. “Oh, Deano, I’m just getting started.”

It didn’t seem to matter what Alastair did to the kid. He’d burn him or electrocute him. He’d cut into flesh and break bones. He’d rip his heart out and make him watch as he crushed it. He’d starve him and dehydrate him. He’d whip his back, his thighs.

At the end of every torture session, Alastair would crouch in front of him, eyes shining in pleasure as he took in the art he’d make of Winchester’s body and he would make the same offer he made to John, “Tell me, Winchester, have you had enough of the pain yet? I’ll let you off the rack if you put other souls on.”

Yet Dean Winchester would just look up at the demon through bleary eyes, he would blink once, twice, lick his lips, and say, “Fuck you. Is that all you got, bitch?”

Alastair would smile and get up, “I was hoping you’d say that, grasshopper.” 

Alastair liked what he did and he was good at it, but after that first week turned into a month, and then a year, and Dean would just grin at him with those blood stained teeth and those green eyes that seemed to pierce through the darkness, even Lucifer could tell that the demon was losing his patience. He would snarl and the torture sessions would be more aggressive. He would hardly let Winchester speak. He’d crush his throat and watch with sick satisfaction as Winchester would try to scream but can’t, would try to breathe but can’t. 

It was John Winchester all over again. 

Lucifer couldn’t help the fascination he felt when he watched Alastair torture the boy over and over and yet Dean Winchester hardly even flinched.

One day, when Alastair was nowhere to be seen, probably gleefully taking a break from Winchester to torture another poor soul, Lucifer let his curiosity take over and he found himself walking over to the rack where Winchester lay. “Is it already that time again, Al?” He paused briefly, and Lucifer watched as the hunter turned his head, causing the chains to rattle. “You just couldn’t stay away, huh, you ugly ass-”

He stared at Lucifer in surprise. “Oh. You’re not Al.”

Lucifer shook his head. “No I’m not. Sorry to disappoint.”

Winchester was silent for another moment, looking Lucifer up and down. “Who the hell are you then?”

“My name is Lucifer. You may know me as the devil.”

The devil was not evil, no matter what some humans claimed. He did not cause good people to do bad things. He did not make it his life mission to tempt humans to cheat or steal or hurt or kill. He hardly saw the outside world, being trapped in his own living nightmare, watching helplessly as one of his father’s greatest (supposedly) creations were forced to torture one of their own for all of eternity. 

Lucifer may be called the devil, the epitome of all evil, but in actuality he was an angel.

“You’re kidding me, right, chuckles?”

Lucifer allowed the human a small, sad smile as he shook his head. “I wouldn’t joke about something like that. You humans have given me many names over the years but my real name is Lucifer.” He watched as Winchester struggled to process the information he had just been given. It was utterly fascinating watching the gears turn in his head. The plethora of emotions that shifted through his eyes like a revolving door had Lucifer entranced. He never understood how humans could survive being so emotional. Emotions seemed more like they hindered than helped. Pride got in the way of logic. Empathy seemed to just hurt needlessly. Anger could twist and sour and corrupt. Love...love just led to betrayal.

Lucifer would know that better than anyone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update was a lot faster because I've really been wanting to write something like this, delving into Lucifer's past. I know he's portrayed differently here than in canon but there are so many stories out there where he's arrogant and dramatic and got all these malicious intent. Anyways there's going to be some Dean POV coming up soonish, but right now it's going to be Lucifer. And yes they will eventually get out of hell. Thanks for all the comments and kudos. I really appreciate them!

Once upon a time, before Lucifer fell from heaven, he had been a brother, a son, a soldier. He had been loved, and loved back.

He watched as Dean Winchester was tortured on the rack. He watched as Alastair raised the whip and Winchester smirked. There was blood on his cheek, covering some of his freckles, blemishes that his father left behind surely. There was blood dripping down one bright green eye. There was blood caking his teeth. The whip fell on his back, over and over. If hell didn’t heal the souls after every torture session, Dean Winchester would no doubt have a bunch of lovely scars.

Still, Winchester did not scream. He just looked in the direction he knew Lucifer was watching and smiled. 

Lucifer remembered the first time they met.

“You humans have given me many names over the years but my real name is Lucifer,” he had said.

There was a moment of silence as Lucifer watched the hunter try to work out if he was just messing with him or not. Finally Winchester licked his lips and said, “Why don’t you try a little harder, pal? There’s no such thing.”

“If hell can be real, why can’t the devil?” Lucifer asked.

“Because if the devil’s real, then so are angels,” Winchester told him, “and heaven and God and there’s not a snowball’s chance that any of those things exist. There’s just hell and earth and a shit load of monsters and demons and _evil_. And even if the devil does exist, there’s no way _you’re_ it. Sorry, buddy, but if this is another scheme of Al’s, you better tell him to try harder.”

To humans, the devil was a being of the greatest sin, the ultimate evil. It was the sign of betrayal. It brought violence and war and needless destruction. It was the stuff of nightmares, the looks of horror, the feeling of pain. It was everything bad about humanity. Every flaw. Every blemish. Every imperfection.

Lucifer had no idea how he became such a symbol.

Often he wondered about his father. What was he doing? Where was he? Did he still think about Lucifer? Was he still disappointed? Or sad? Or perhaps angry? Or did he move on? Maybe he forgot about Lucifer. Maybe he was pretending like he never existed. 

There was a before. Before hell. Before Lucifer’s fall from heaven. Before humans. He had brothers and sisters and a father. There had been Gabriel, the youngest of the Archangels, younger than Lucifer by at least a couple millennia, which honestly wasn’t all that much when you were a celestial being that could live forever. But Gabriel, no matter how young he was, no matter how snarky and how much of an outsider he felt to the rest of the family, he would always be a favorite to Lucifer amongst his brothers.

_“Luke! Hey, Luke! There you are. Pop’s been calling for us,” Gabriel said, appearing by the large tree that Lucifer sat under. Lucifer looked up from the book he had been reading as his brother peered down at him curiously. “What’s that, bro?”_

_“Oh, this?” Lucifer stared down at the page he had been reading. He folded the page in the corner and handed the book to Gabriel._

_Gabriel took it eagerly, flipping to the back. There was a picture of a human, pale faced with long wavy hair. “William Shakespeare,” Gabriel read. He flipped it back around and touched the cover in awe. “Is this...is this a human?”_

_“Yes,” Lucifer said, taking the book from his brother. Gabriel waited for him to explain further but Lucifer was quiet._

_“Where did you even get that? It says he died in 1616. It’s not even…” Gabriel trailed off, his eyes widening as a new realization struck him. “Luke, you didn’t travel to the future, did you?”_

_“So what if I did?” Lucifer asked, getting defensive. He stood up so that he was looming over his brother. “Father made these so-called humans and wants us to love them. He told us to love them more than him, Gabe. He told us that they’re better than him, that they deserve our love more. And I just wanted to know why. What makes them so special, Gabe?”_

_“Um. I don’t really know.” Gabriel had no answer to Lucifer’s question that day, but the older archangel already figured that._

“So you’ve decided to finally show yourself again,” Winchester said one day when Lucifer approached his rack. Winchester was positioned so that he was laying on his back, naked as the day he was born, his arms and legs shackled. Around his neck was a heavy looking, iron collar that was purely aesthetic because Alastair liked seeing Dean chained like a dog. Winchester wasn’t looking at him, his eyes resolutely staring up at the ceiling. “You must be bored to be paying me a visit. Run out of other poor souls to torment, huh, _Luci_?”

Lucifer ignored the human’s jab. He brushed a finger over Winchester’s arm, felt him try to jerk away in surprise. “Shit. If you’re really the devil, why aren’t you burning hot?” Winchester hissed, finally turning to glare at him. “Why the fuck are you so cold?”

The archangel let go of the human and looked down at his own hands thoughtfully. “Is that how I feel to you?” He could feel the hunter’s eyes on him as he went on to say, “Honestly, I think it’s just the way my father made this place. Hell was originally made to be my prison, but when he saw you humans running around, committing all kinds of sins, he decided to make hell bigger and different so that it could also fit his ‘greatest’ creations - humans. We’re not here in the physical sense. Your soul is, but I’m technically still stuck in the cage in the lowest part of hell. What you’re feeling right now, it’s not real. It’s your mind trying to fill in the gaps. It’s trying to imagine what I feel like.” He stopped for a moment before looking back at Winchester. The hunter looked like he was struggling to process the information. He couldn’t help but add under his breath, “And what I look like.”

Winchester heard him nonetheless. “So, what? You telling me that the devil doesn’t look like some average schmuck?”

Lucifer felt himself smile. “Hate to disappoint you again, but my true form is much bigger than this and much more magnificent. Imagine the largest building on your planet and multiply that by one hundred.”

Winchester raised an eyebrow. “Wow. That _is_ pretty big.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! Long time, I know. Happy holidays to everyone. Just remember that this diverts from canon. Thanks for all of the kudos and comments as always! I didn't think this story was going to garner so much attention but that's awesome! Thanks a bunch. Stay safe and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Their meetings became almost a regular thing after that. Lucifer would find himself watching as Alastair tortured the human and afterwards he would try and offer to end all of the pain if Dean would just step off the rack and pick up the knife. No matter what Alastair would do to him, however, Dean Winchester would refuse, sometimes with a smirk on his face: “How ‘bout you stick that offer where the sun don’t shine?”

Sometimes, Alastair would keep whipping the human, the lashes coming down harsh and fast and it would last a long time, until Winchester could no longer hold back a scream. Sometimes that satisfied Alastair enough to stop and walk away, sometimes he would continue until Winchester could no longer talk. Those days, Lucifer thought maybe this would be the day when the human finally had enough, he would give in and take up the knife and thus break the first seal. But the brightness of Winchester’s soul stayed the same and the light in his eyes showed defiance and he would look up at the demon and smile just to piss him off some more.

“Why do you do that?” Lucifer had to ask.

Winchester blinked up at him. “Why do I do what?”

Lucifer shifted slightly, his legs dangled from the edge of the rack. “Infuriate Alastair like that. Taunt him with your words, with your smile. Why don’t you just give in?” Surely the pain, all of this, is not worth it, Lucifer added in his head. He watched as Winchester’s head lolled to the side. His eyes watched a couple demons walk past his rack to another.

“You claim you’re the devil,” Winchester said at last. Lucifer nodded, not quite understanding. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Lucifer tilted his head. “Try me.”

Winchester sighed. “You’re not going to leave me alone if I don’t answer, huh?”

Lucifer curled his lips into a tiny grin, “Probably not. I have to admit, Dean Winchester, you’re the first human to interest me in a _long_ time.”

Winchester huffed a laugh. “So there were others? You’ll have to tell me that story some day. But to answer your question...giving in is not an option. It’ll never be an option. Giving in would mean me giving up a part of myself,” Winchester paused, considering his words. He laughed again, like what he said was funny. “I know this is probably a stupid thing to say considering where we are, but there’s still a little part of myself that I like. You know I was a hunter, right? My dad, he, uh got me and my brother into the business, so to speak. Hunting the supernatural, like werewolves and demons, saving people...that was what I liked most about it, I guess. But if I give in and take Alastair’s deal, I would be like the monsters that I used to hunt. I’d be a monster, and, well I can’t do that. So you see? There is no choice.”

The devil and the human fell into silence after that. Lucifer watched as the demons around them continued to torture the other souls chained to racks. Winchester reminded the devil of her in all of his complexity and defiance.

“Lilith,” Lucifer said out of the blue one day as he perched on the rack of his favorite human. Winchester turned to look at him with confusion. “She was the first human to come to hell, upon my father’s command, no doubt. You said that you wanted to hear the story of the other humans that intrigued me,” he clarified as Winchester watched him carefully, interest in his brilliant green eyes.

“Lilith, Lilith...why does the name sound familiar?” Winchester muttered.

“She was the first demon created from hell, from me,” Lucifer said. He remembered the day she fell from heaven like it was only yesterday. “Are you familiar with the story of Adam and Eve?”

“Of course. Adam and Eve were supposedly the first humans created by God,” Winchester said. 

Lucifer nodded. “My father told Adam and Eve that they could eat from any of the trees except for one.”

“The tree of knowledge, right?”

“Yes. But as you know, they were led astray,” the devil said.

“By the serpent,” Winchester hesitated. “The devil?”

Lucifer barked a laugh and shook his head. “You wish, but no, not quite.”

Winchester fell silent for a moment, before it dawned on him. “Lilith? Lilith led them into temptation?”

“Yes. My father created three humans in the beginning. Lilith was the third human and she deceived Adam and Eve to eat from the tree of knowledge. That was how man descended to earth, and Lilith would be the first human to land in hell after she died. I was already down here, trapped in my prison when she was sent here,” Lucifer said.

“Wait. Wait a second,” Winchester said, “if God is real, why would he create all of this? Why would he create two humans like Adam and Eve and tell them not to eat from the tree of knowledge knowing that they would be tempted? Why would he create a third human, Lilith, to tempt them in the first place? What the hell kind of god does all of that to his ‘precious’ creations?”

Winchester really was like Lilith in so many ways. In other ways, he was a little like Lucifer.

_“What did I do to deserve this?” Lilith asked Lucifer one day. “All I did was what I was told by father.”_

_Lucifer leaned heavily against the bars of his cage. What did the human know about betrayal? Lucifer had been hurt and betrayed but Lilith had led Adam and Eve, her fellow brother and sister astray. And yet Michael sided with the humans even when Lucifer was right to question it. He clenched his hands into fists as the image of Michael flashed in his head. Michael with his large, brilliant wings clad in majestic armor, wielding his long, deadly spear. The tip of it had been pointed at Lucifer as he told his brother, “Be gone, Lucifer. You are no brother of mine. You are the serpent, the devil, just as our father said.”_

_Michael had been willing to hurt and betray him just because father told him that the humans mattered more than anything in this universe. Lucifer watched as the human lay her head against the bars of his cage. Fine. If Michael wanted Lucifer to be the devil, he would be. He reached out and softly touched the human’s shoulder. Lilith looked up at the devil with bright hazel eyes. “We’re very similar, aren’t we, Lilith?” The lies rolled off his tongue easily. “You’re a human and I am an angel, and yet we were hurt by the ones we thought cared about us.” He watched Lilith’s eyes widen. “Yes, Lilith, I was betrayed by my brother, by our father. Do you know what my sin was?” Lilith shook her head. Lucifer allowed a tiny smile. “I loved too greatly. I questioned too much. I guess no one liked that, and so I was banished here, to this prison.” He gestured at his cage. “So yes, I know what it’s like to be hurt and betrayed and angry. I know the pain. It’s not a great feeling, is it?” Lilith shook her head when she realized he wanted an answer. He leaned closer, his head touching the bars, his eyes glowing red as he watched her. “I can take that away for you. I can take it all away. You won’t have to ever feel any of it again.”_

_“What do I do?”_

_“Just say yes.”_

Turning Lilith into a demon had been Lucifer’s way at getting back at his father. At Michael and Raphael, all of those who sneered at him and called him the serpent and the devil and the betrayer. 

See, father? Look at your precious humans, falling and becoming such abominations. Look at how pitiful they are, how miserable they make each other. There’s not a good thing about your newest creation. Can’t you understand that? 

His father never answered Lucifer’s prayers. Sometimes Lucifer wondered if he still existed.


	5. Chapter 5

“You know, for the so-called devil, I thought you’d be, I dunno, more evil,” Winchester said.

Lucifer laughed. “I told you. I might be called the devil, but I’m not evil.”

The devil watched as the hunter raised an eyebrow. “You’re not? Then why does every bible say you are? Why does everyone believe you are? You committed the greatest sin.”

“Your bibles are obviously wrong,” the devil replied. “Do you even know what sin I committed?”

Winchester narrowed his eyes as he pondered the question. He then looked up at the ceiling. He shook his head finally and looked back at Lucifer. “Well you said you didn’t lead Adam and Eve to temptation so I guess not. What did you do that was so bad to imprison you here for all of eternity?”

Lucifer grimaced at the memories of his brother’s betrayal and his father’s unfair accusation. Even after thousands of years trapped in the cage with nothing but the pitiful, tortured souls of his father’s imperfect creations, thousands of years with nothing to do but to wonder and self reflect, those memories still hurt. He chuckled, not finding any of this conversation humorous but it was better than lashing out in hot rage, “My greatest sin was love.”

He could feel the human’s eyes on him, surprised by his simple answer. “Love? Really? What do you mean? And no offense or anything but I didn’t think the devil would be capable of love.”

Lucifer couldn’t help but snort at the human’s answer. He hadn’t expected him to understand, even one dubbed as The Righteous Man. He was human and a hunter and most ever saw in black and white. Unfortunately Dean Winchester was no exception. “I might not be human, but most things are capable of love,” he said, his voice tinged with the bitterness of the memories buried inside him. If he hadn’t been capable of such a thing, no doubt, he wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t be trapped, known as the evil that his fellow brothers and sisters made him out to be, what the humans made him out to be. "I loved God, _my father_ , too much. I loved him more than anyone, more than anything. He sent me here as punishment." 

Their conversation fell to silence as the human became more contemplative. He stared up at the ceiling, and Lucifer watched him. Then Alastair came back, taking long purposeful strides and Dean snapped his attention over to the demon. His eyes were bright green and his smile was confident and he said, “Well look who’s back.”

Alastair didn’t bother to respond. He picked up a particularly vicious looking whip and set to work.

It took another couple months before Lilith somehow found a way to reach Lucifer. She seemed a little agitated, no doubt having her hands full with Samuel Winchester. Lucifer could hear the demons chattering amongst each other about how the last Winchester alive had been on a demon killing spree, trying to free his brother from hell any way he could. He had been expecting a call from Lilith at some point, so he wasn’t surprised to see her standing in front of his cage. Her soul wasn’t actually there, but he could see her clearly.

He bared his teeth at her, “Lilith.”

“Lucifer,” she said, her gold eyes staring into him, her smile wide.

“What do you want?” he asked.

She walked a little closer, reaching her hand to touch the bar. She leaned her head against it, and Lucifer couldn’t help but reach for her through his prison. He had always felt drawn to Lilith, despite how incredibly different they were, how he hurt her without a thought just to get back at his brothers, his sisters, his _father_. She was human. She was a monster. She had suffered and asked for help, begged for help. He caused her to fall to the lowest point, to become this cold, uncaring demon. And still, she remained his most loyal follower. She would move the heavens, and hell, she would wreak havoc upon the earth just to free him. 

A part of him hated her for feeling this way. But she couldn’t help it. She was just a human. Lower than anything that his father could have created. 

That was how he felt for a long time. That was still how he felt. Was it not?

“You’re going to be freed soon,” Lilith told him through the bars, “The Righteous Man will break. I can feel his soul, it might shine bright, but not for long. It’s crumbling. Piece by piece. Alastair is talented. He’s been doing this for a long, long time. _You_ taught him, my lord. He will do as you say, and you’ll be free from this prison and lead us all to paradise.” She suddenly reached through the bars and took his hand. Lucifer let her. She bent forward and placed a gentle kiss upon it. “You’re cold,” she murmured after a moment.

The devil caught Lilith’s chin and lifted it up to see bright, gold eyes staring up at him. “You shouldn’t lie, not to the devil, darling.” At her questioning look, Lucifer said, “The Righteous Man won’t break. Not any time soon. You’ve seen it, his soul. There’s something about it, you know. There’s something about _him_. It’s bright, too bright. Even as talented as _Alastair_ is, nothing the demon does will break the boy.” He could feel Lilith tremble under his touch. He relished the power he held over the demon. This was what the humans feared, this lowly, corrupted messed up soul that Lucifer tainted such a long time ago. His grip on her tightened and he could tell from the way she tensed that even as far away from him that she actually was she could feel this, feel his anger, his hatred, his hunger to get out, his hunger to _understand_.

He let go. Lilith stumbled away. She looked unsure, like the lost human soul when they first met. “He will break. Everyone breaks,” she argued.

The devil couldn’t help but laugh. It was true what Lilith said. Everyone broke. This was hell. This was what it was designed for. Maybe not at first. But Lucifer, after years of boredom, he had molded this to be the way it was. Surely even The Righteous Man would break. But after talking with Dean Winchester for so long, after seeing him, seeing Alastair, Lucifer wasn’t so sure. This human was special. His eyes were green and bright and glittered with defiance.

He shook his head, and looked Lilith dead in the eyes, “Maybe not everyone.”

Dean Winchester was one of a kind and the devil knew it.


End file.
